Paladin
by ForbiddenDreams13
Summary: Within the Hunter's Council, there is a secret organization called the White Knignts, dedicated to removing evil from this world. One of the main evils, are the 'Locked Boxes' twelve boxes, controlled by a thirteenth box that if opened, will release hell.
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, I'm putting Black Fox on hold for a while, and I'm doing the same to Bloody Kisses of a Forbidden Love as well. Let's say this fanfic captivated me for the time being.**_

* * *

"_The key! Turn the key you fool! Turn it for your father's sake!"_

_The key is sticking out of the keyhole in the black box. It seems to mock him. This black box, set in a ring with eleven others, guarding a thirteenth one that has suddenly appeared. The top lifts back, and out of the box, screaming flies one of the thirteen Demon Lords. Its black robe flutters around it as the hood falls back, revealing a grinning eyeless horror. _

_Kaien Cross leaps for the box, hand grabbing for the key. He has forgotten everything around him. His mentor, who is busy grappling with another Demon Lord, his friend Yagari, shooting at sepulchers, the chaos around him, all these things have been forgotten. The only thing on his mind is the key sticking out of the black box, the doorway for the demon._

_They are in a forest clearing, it is dead winter, and yet this close to the hellish summoning circle, it is as hot as hell itself. He grips they key, and begins to turn it to the right. He has forgotten his sword, it lies behind him, like a defeated ally, its white metal gleaming powerful and true. Cold death plungesitself into his back as he realizes the Demon Lord has sunk its hands into his flesh, searching for his heart, meaning to draw out his soul, and turn him into one of the sepulcher servants flying around the clearing, screeching, and disorienting the battle. _

_With the cold comes pain, he grits his teeth, and continues turning the key, listening frantically for the click of the locking mechanism sliding into place. The lock is just about home, when suddenly, his hand is paralyzed, and more of him that that. His entire body refuses to move, his chest contracts and expands in a parody of breath, even though his heart has ceased to beat. The realization comes in a shocking, dazzling clarity:_

_The Demon Lord has found his soul._

_His vision blurs, and the darkness of death beckons to him. A wind begins to blow, bringing with it the scent of thousands of roses. Cross pushes these things out of his mind, and concentrates on the key, he knows that if he can just make that lock slide home, then he will be free. Once more, he tries to turn the key, but his arm has stopped working. Now with horror, he watches as his fingers go limp, and his hand falls, useless to the hard unforgiving ground. A scream of both terror and defeat dies before it can even breach his closed lips. This is the end. He will die here, only to be resurrected as one of the undead to be hunted down and slaughtered. With nothing more to do, he closes his eyes, and waits for it to be over._

_Bang!_

_Something screams. It is a horrible sound, caught somewhere between the laughter of a madman, and the cries of murdered children. It is a sound that will haunt him for years to come. The coldness departs his body, and life floods him with such a rush that he is gripped for five full minutes that seem to pass like hours by an uncontrollable shaking._

_When he finally has his body back under control, he feels a hand on his shoulder. Kaien gets to his knees, and looks behind him. Yagari kneels behind him, with a concerned look in his eyes. Cross mouths a 'Thank you.' and goes back to the business of the key. He knows he doesn't have long. He can hear the Demon Lord preparing another assault. Quickly, he clasps the key, and turns it. Click! The lock falls into place. Kaien yanks the key out of the keyhole. The box begins to vibrate, and the creature begins to scream as it is sucked back into the box. Kaien leaps out of the way as spade-like clawed hands slash the air where his throat had been a moment before. Vainly, it grips to sides of the box, but it falls prey to vortex sucking it back in. _

_The lid snaps shut, and there is a moment where the box begins to shake violently, but it soon ceases. After all, without the key the doorway can not be opened, and the box will stay locked._

_He turns to his friend, who has stood behind him, gun aimed at the box should the thing re-appear. Kaien shakes his head to indicate it is over. Yagari nods, and runs across the clearing. They have been fighting for over three hours, and in the span of time, they have managed to lock eight of the boxes. The ones that remain open are on the left side of the clearing. _

_In the center, stands the ethereal thirteenth box, which cannot be destroyed until the other twelve have been locked. As he looks at the box, he wonders where exactly the thirteenth lord is, and how strange it is, that the most powerful of the lords is so reliant on the weaker below him. Suddenly, oddly, he remembers earlier today, when he walked past a man whistling Thomas Dolby's 'Weird Science', and maybe it's more fitting than odd, because the way the Locked Boxes work __**is **__weird science. Probably the weirdest of all. He is just about ready to run over, and help his friend, when a sepulcher materializes behind Touga, grabs him by the ankle, and lifts him high into the air, keening in high pitched laughter._

"_Touga! Hang on!"_

_He makes a dash for his sword, picks it up, and waits for the sepulcher to fly within rang of the blade. Yagari is trying to aim his gun at the thing dragging him through the sky, when the sepulcher knocks it out of his hands. The weapon goes flying, and lands far from Kaien, and their mentor, who Kaien wonders if he realizes they're still there. He is brought back to his senses by Yagari's shouting. The sepulcher is flying straight towards him, other arm outstretched. His hands clasp the hilt of his sword, and he swings, hearing the silver plating on the edges of the blade sing as it arcs through the air. Just before he can tear the sepulcher's head from its shoulders, a white arrow slices the sky, and knocks the unhallowed thing in the chest. It lets go of Yagari, and sends the nineteen year-old flying across the clearing, and into a copse of bushes. Kaien looks at the wounded sepulcher. The arrow that has pierced its bony, skeletal chest has begun to glow, enveloping the creature in a beautiful white light._

'_Purity.' He thinks as the thing gives one last scream before departing from this plane of existence. The arrow that did the evil in is sticking up out of the ground, white against the black of the night, its tip plated with silver. On the head is the symbol of a full red rose entwined around a silver cross. It is the same symbol on the flat of his blade, and the same symbol on the barrel of Yagari's gun. _

_On the other side of the clearing, Yagari is getting shakily to his feet, rubbing his ankle where the sepulcher's talon's pierced skin. Good, Yagari is okay. His only other priorities are locking the rest of the boxes, and his mentor, who is not faring so well. _

_Hatori Yuskai is standing near an old ironwood, firing arrows into the sky, there is blood dripping from multiple wounds in his arms, chest, and forehead. The wounds in his chest bite deep, even from this distance, Kaien knows if something is not done, Yuskai, mentor to both Yagari and Cross, will die. Above them, the three remaining Demon Lords circle, laughing, and screaming. Chasing each other, they begin to move faster, and faster, until there is nothing but a line of black, whirling, and humming._

_The three remaining Demon Lords are summoning their master. The fate of the entire world now rests on the shoulders of three battle weary men. These men don't have hours, they don't even have minutes; they have seconds. Mere seconds until an old hell is released on Earth. No pressure. Yuskai releases arrows from his crossbow, while yelling at his former apprentices;_

"_Go you fools! I can buy us some time, but only a little! Hurry!"_

_Kaien attaches his blade to his hip, and runs to one of the open boxes on the left side of the clearing. Above, there is the sound of an arrow hitting home, and screams. Another arrow is fired, and yet another. Beside him, Yagari is pouring his strength into turning the key in his box. In this instance, turning the keys is more than just a simple flick of the wrist. They must grapple with the will of the demons themselves, and the dark powers that forged the boxes into being. Kneeling beside his friend, Kaien grabs his wrists, and the both of them, with their combined strength, they turn the key, and click the lock into place._

_A whirlwind assaults them as the power in the box is reversed and the Demon Lord is sucked back into its cage. Yagari flinches as one of the claws flicks across his cheek, drawing blood. Then, just as before, the box snaps shut, and the demon is gone. One down, two to go, three, if they don't hurry up. Yuskai-sensei is buying them time, but if they don't get cracking, it may not be enough. Yagari dives to the left, and Kaien runs off to the right. Two boxes to go. It seems almost impossible to believe. Almost. _

_Kaien grasps the key. This will be it. Before the battle started, he'd had his doubts. But now he knows. This will be the end. Triumph fills him, engulfing his soul in a golden blaze a thousand times brighter than any sun. He falters for a moment, stunned by the clarity, the utter simplicity of it all. Two boxes! That's all that stands between them and peace. That's it! As he kneels in front of the box, hand clasped firmly around the key, he has forgotten about the sepulchers. A grave mistake. While he was busy basking in the moment to come, one had come up behind him. _

_Claws sink into his chest, as the sepulcher bites into his throat, tearing through tender flesh. Kaien screams, and he sounds like the demons above him. He can hear their laughter. Yagari rises to help, but Kaien shakes his head. Black agony eats at his entire body, he knows that there won't be much time to do this. The probing fangs of the creature are getting closer and closer to the carotid vein , and the hands are sinking deeper and deeper, going slower, drawing out his pain. His hands are twitching, but he manages to grab his sword. He brings it back, and cleaves the skull of the sepulcher in two. It falls away from him. As the fangs and claws tear themselves out from his flesh, black and white dots swarm his vision, and for a moment, he believes he will faint. _

_Through sheer force of will, he pushes unconsciousness away. Beside him is the audible click as another lock slides into place. The first to last demon is pulled back into the box, now one remains. His box. The strength has left his limbs. A little ways away, Yuskai-sensei is being harassed by sepulchers, they are knocking him to and fro, playing a macabre game of catch. He hears the sickening sound as the flesh of his master is pierced by their unforgiving talons. Dropping to his knees, Kaien grabs the key once more, and begins turning the lock. It is harder, and he can hear the demon's voice in his mind. It is hard to focus on one particular voice, as it seems to be many of one. They batter his mental reserve, screaming, and screeching. Just when Kaien thinks he can bear it no longer, and he __**will **__succumb to the afterlife where the breeze smells of roses, Yagari shoves him out of the way, and turns the key, locking the last box. _

_They two young men are battered by a fierce wind, as the final demon is pulled back into its box. Yagari is too busy regaining his senses to notice it, but Kaien does. The demon is laughing at them. It is only when he looks up into the sky, that he realizes what is going on: They took too long. Up in the sky, is a large portal, within its circumference, Kaien can see lightning, and deformed creatures flying about. He nudges Yagari, whose eyes widen as he beholds their grave mistake. _

_A large, rotted hand appears. Maggots the size of a human head squirm in the gray pink flesh. Yellow-white claws scratch the trees, the very presence of such an unhallowed appendage has tainted the very air, and so now both of them must only take small sips to avoid being poisoned. _

"_What do we do now?"_

_Yagari asks. His eyes are large and frightened. Kaien doesn't blame him. Inside his chest, he can feel his own heart hammering away. He doesn't know, but something must be done, before the rest of that thing gets clear. Kaien is about to reply, when a shout cuts him short. Both young men turn to see something that will scar their dreams forever: Hatori Yuskai has been impaled on the claws of the great demon hand. He squirms, screaming in agony as he slides further down. His blood turns the claws and part of the fingers a chuck berry red. The sepulchers laugh, and the Thirteenth Lord roars his satisfaction. He now has a sacrifice, a perfect welcoming gift if you will. _

_At that moment, something becomes clear: If they can stop the hand from getting any further, maybe they can stop the Thirteenth Lord from arriving. Yagari bends down, and cups his hands together, forming a step for Kaien's foot. Kaien backs up a few paces, then runs. As he runs, he lets loose a yell that puts all other battle cries to shame. Within the rising intensity of his voice is everything his life is, has been and will be. In the cry is his life as a child, so cruelly ripped away from him, the death of his lover, Genevieve, who bled to death in the cold snow of a winter much like this one, there is all these things and more. He steps into Yagari's cupped hands, and leaps straight for the hand of hell. His sword is held firmly in his hands, as he swings, and connects with his target._

_It was like cutting hot butter. If he hadn't have felt the tearing of flesh, he would've sworn he cut through air. Black fluid that wasn't really blood sprays through the air, soaking the nearby trees that die seconds later. Pus seeps out of the wound, smelling of wax and decay. The maggots that have been cut in half, still try to feed on flesh that isn't there, using mouths that no longer exist.. A sound that isn't quite a scream, but rather much like an electric wail split's the air, and shatters the ear drums of any small animal nearby. _

_The hand shrivels up, resembling a dried prune before turning to dust. The severed arm pulls itself back into the safety of its netherworld, whispering to itself. Kaien is glad he can't understand what it's saying. Then, the portal is closed. He lands on the ground. The sepulchers have either fled or gone back to where they came from, and the boxes lay on the ground, securely closed, and seemingly harmless. The air is so still that it seems to be nonexistent. The horrible presence that poisoned it is gone, and now clean air has never smelled better. The intense heat has also departed, and the cold bites into his body with sharp teeth. Everything looks normal, or would have looked normal if not for the large amounts of blood pooled on the ground._

"_Master Yuskai! Master Yuskai! C'mon! Open your eyes!"_

_Yagari is kneeling down beside their fallen teacher. Kaien joins him. There, laying on the ground is the term dying made flesh. Large ugly holes on his chest and stomach glimmer black with blood. Claw wounds hiss and burn as the sepulcher venom spreads further through their torn teacher's body. The only thing that is still okay to look at are Yuskai's eyes. Those green eyes still burn with light, albeit a pinprick. Yagari tears off his jacket and begins pressing it onto the fatal wounds. But Yuskai's voice stops him._

"_No…Touga…that…won't do…any…good and you…know it."_

_This is followed by a fit of hacking and coughing. Flecks of blood spatter Yuskai's chin, as he continues to smile up at them._

"_We did it boys…we did…it.."_

_Yagari grits his teeth together. Tears are starting to form in his eyes._

"_What's the point of going through all this just to lose you at the end?! Why did we do this?!"_

_Kaien cannot find his voice, he just kneels there, observing the dying mans serene face as he gazes up at the two people whom he took under his guidance. _

"_The point, Touga, was to prevent an age of darkness, an eternity of despair from arising on this Earth. To save the lives of the innocent, and to fight for the white light of Purity. To keep the evil taint from consuming this world. That is not only the point of this mission, but the point of our organization as well. We White Knights exist for that purpose. To protect the people from the older evils of the world."_

"_Does that also mean losing the ones we care about, in pursuit of our eternal selfish quest?! Where's the sense in fighting for Purity when-"_

_Yagari is cut off as Yuskai feebly waves his hand, motioning the younger Knight to be silent._

"_Listen Touga, can you hear it? Can you feel it? The sounds of perfect silence, the feel of balance being restored? Do you not feel the least bit triumphant? Is it not right for peace to prevail? And if we lose a companion or two, it does not mean our quest was in vain."_

_Yagari is about to say more, but Kaien lays a hand on his friends shoulder. Yagari grips it with a stunning amount of strength. Kaien can feel the silent sobs that wrack his friend's body. It is only when he blinks, and becomes aware of the wetness under his eyes, that he realizes he is crying too. Yuskai smiles up at them, and for a dying man, the smile is not too bad._

"_I'm proud of you both. You two helped me stop a great evil from being born. Thank you…both of you."_

_Then, Yuskai lays back his head, and is gone. Yagari screams. Kaien leans forward, and closes his dead master's unseeing eyes. He envelops his friend, and the two of them kneel there in the cold, clinging to each other, sharing a painful loss that they will regret and blame themselves for until their last breaths. When they part, Kaien suddenly remembers the wounds inflicted by the sepulcher. He reaches for the belt at his waist, and unzips a large pocket. In the pocket are bandages soaked in a silver-white liquid. Carefully, he wraps them around his neck, he will leave the wounds on his back, sides and chest to Glinka at the Council. Yagari looks at him, his eyes are red from crying, Kaien imagines his are too. Yagari gently grabs his friend's arm, and slings it around his shoulders. Kaien leans on his friend; they are not far from the Council, if they can make it back to the car parked on the edge of the forest, just off the road, then it will be a thirty minute drive, then they can get their wounds treated. _

_Before they leave, Kaien turns to the cooling body of their dead teacher._

"_We'll come back for him. He deserves a proper burial."_

_Yagari nods._

"_Yes, although he deserves more to be alive than stuck six feet into the ground."_

_Kaien winces at the bitterness in his friend's voice. Then, they turn back around, and head for the edge of the forest, leaving their broken, beaten, and dead teacher behind to freeze in the snow, until they can return for him, and give him the funeral they promised each other he would receive._

_* * * * *_

_The door stands before him. It is the only thing barring his way, the only threshold he is afraid to cross, Seventeen year-old Kaien Cross, holds his sword out in front of him, trembling. He can feel the tainted aura of the thing sitting in his father's study clear on the other side of the door. Swallowing, he vainly tries to leash his fear, as he slowly turns the knob. _

_On the other side of the door, is a study, his father's study. The interior is oak wood paneling, with a likewise paneled floor. It is a large room, and at the far left, are two beautiful French doors. The glass has a lovely smoked rose in the center of each. A design his fourteen years dead mother picked out when they designed the room interior. On the other side of these doors is a small mini library, but the room beyond the French doors does not concern him. There is a blazing fire in the hearth, but instead of warming him, the fire freezes his heart. It reminds him of hell. Emerald green curtains flank either side of a large bay window. Outside dead leaves swirl in the black of the night sky, there are no stars that he can see, and no moon to aid the lonely traveler's eyes with its gentle light. Pictures of beautiful, tranquil landscapes hang on the walls, depicting waterfalls, and mysterious forests where dreams breathe and secrets whisper. A great deal of the floor is covered by rug the same color as the curtains, in front f the window is his father's desk. It is a simple desk, dependable wood, with an overhead lamp to provide light in the dimmer hours. On the left side, is a magnifying glass, discarded papers, and an old ball point pen. On the right, are stacks of thick books, their covers dusty, and their pages yellowed. _

_Behind this array of object sits the thing masquerading as his father. His father's eyes look at him, his father's face smiles at him, but it is not his father. The demon possessing his father has dressed himself in one of his father's best suits. It leans forward, and spreads his father's hands, never losing that smile._

"_My son, my son. Didn't I tell you?"_

_His father's body gets up out of the chair, and begins to walk around the desk, coming to stand at the front. Kaien clenches his trembling hands tighter around the hilt of his sword. .He is certain that the demon residing in his father's soul can both see and smell his fear. _

"_That to live by the sword, is to die by the sword?"_

_It begins to walk towards him. Now the smile is gone, replaced by a look of emptiness that is more frightening than the smile it wore a minute earlier. The fear swimming in his veins threatens to paralyze him for a moment, then somehow, by some grace of God, it evaporates, leaving him as empty as the look on the face of his former father. But with a purpose._

"_You're not my father!"_

_He shrieks, and lunges forward, driving the point of the sword between the third and fourth rib; directly into the heart. He watches as his father's face contorts, and blood spurts out of his mouth. The demon in his father's body shambles backward, crashing through the French doors, the sword still sticking out of its chest. There is a resounding crash, then silence. Kaien runs into the mini library. Both his father's study and the mini library are on the second floor. Inside the miniature library is a railing, and to the left is a staircase, which leads down into the larger library on the first floor. The body of his father has fallen on one of the wide tables, knocking more discarded papers and books askew. Blood pools on the table, and red liquid ribbons trail to the floor, where they form small individual puddles. The legs of the table have been crushed due to the sudden weight collapsing on top of them. He watches as his father's eyes glaze over, and as his chest falls for a final time._

_At first nothing happens. Kaien stands there, contemplating whether it is safe enough to retrieve his sword from his father's corpse. Something decides for him. Mounted on the walls, are three small lamps, and he watches as one by one they blink, once, twice, then go out. An unforeseen presence fills the room. Down on the first floor, his father's body has started to glow a sickly red color, something resembling black smoke sails up from the corpse. It sails up to meet him, then stops, suspended in the air, and begins to take form: A large barrel chest, broad shoulders, clawed hands attached to long gangly arms, seven fingered hands, clawed feet and stubby legs, in the middle of the midriff a face appears. It has four yellow gray eyes with slit pupils. A mouth opens in a growl, revealing diseased, long teeth, each one has been filed down to a point. It is about to reach for him, when a fiery crackle sends tremors through the entire house. _

_A bright orange tongue of flame travels out of the fire place, and winds itself around the demon that had staked a claim on his father's soul. It screams. Kaien covers his ears, and drops to his knees, praying that by the time all this is over, he will still be retaining his sanity. The air above him sizzles as the demon is pulled back by the rope of flame. The fireplace has now become a portal, and from his position, Kaien can see pale bloodless hands pulling, one over the other at the cord of flame dragging the screaming, gibbering entity back into the depths of hell. Black claws grip the stone ledge in the fireplace, and for a moment, he believes the demon will pull itself free, but it lets go. He can hear it screaming as it is dragged further down. There is a sucking noise as the stones re-arrange themselves. After three minutes, it's as if nothing ever happened. _

_Slowly, he gets to his feet. His father's body is still on the table, but now it is truly empty. Kaien vaults over the railing, and lands nimbly beside his father's dead body. Sending a silent apology to his father's departed soul, he plants his foot on the cadaver's stomach, and pulls his sword free. _

"_Dad…I'm so sorry."_

_He wraps his hands around the hilt of his sword, bows his head, closes his eyes, and kneels beside his father, and recites one of the many oaths of the White Knights;_

" _May the life that hath been sacrificed not be in vain. May thy soul of the departed find peace in the afterlife. Let my sword continue to follow the white light of Purity, and may that purity guide thy soul of the dead before me, giving it peace and happiness for the rest of time. Amen."_

_Feeling that weight of the minutes he endured, (it is hard to believe that the fiasco that made him murder his father lasted only mere minutes), he rises to his feet, and sobs, feeling a terrible combination loss and regret unfold inside of him, like the black petals of a venomous rose._

_* * * * *_

_He opens his eyes to find himself facing a full length mirror. Reflected in the mirror is the Kaien Cross he is now, a 37 year old man who has turned away from the dark, despair filled back alleys his former life had him running through. A man who is hoping for better things. There is nothing around him except for darkness, and the mirror. The glass seems to have its own aura, it looks like someone has covered the mirror with a black veil. Suddenly, he does not feel so comfortable about looking into the glass. Movement behind him catches his attention. His instincts scream for him to run, but his feet are like lead, even his legs refuse to respond. He turns back to the mirror, and cries out. Not him any more! Floating in the mirror is a wraith. An apparition in a smoky gray cloak, impossible to see its face, but he can see two red eyes burning in hollow sockets._

_The apparition screams, then launches itself out of the mirror, cold bony hands going straight for his throat. Long skeletal fingers wrap themselves around his windpipe, choking off his air supply. Although there appears to be nothing solid beneath him, he feels hard ground connect with his back. It begins to throttle him, and for the first time, he is afraid of dying. Red eyes burn into his own, in those eyes he can see images, there is a flash, then his mind is seeing the images reflected in the spirit's eyes. _

_He is back at the clearing where he and Touga lost their former master, except something is different. The whole area seems to glow an unnatural orange-red, and in the middle stands the Thirteenth Box. The key is sticking out of the keyhole, and before he can do anything, it begins to turn by itself. A strange, hollow, empty black light envelops the box, then the lid flies open. Sepulchers, wraiths and all manner of hell's demon fly out of the open doorway. They swarm around him, circling him, surrounding him in their tainted, unhallowed aura. Scents straight from the crypt assault his nose; dust, death, rotting flesh, and the horrible acrid tang of evil. _

_His arms rise above his head as he realizes he is being lifted up off the ground. Grinning skulls of the sepulchers meet his eyes, as he is led five hundred feet above the ground. Screams of horror and despair meet his ears, and it is only a few seconds later when he realizes that they are coming from the ground below. Before he can register what is going on below, he is dropped to the ground. The entities of hell continue on their way, leaving him to get unsteadily to his feet. He shakes his head to clear it of the fog, then takes a good look around._

_They have dropped him in the center of his school campus. It is chaos. Dead bodies litter the ground like common trash clad in both white and black uniforms of the Night and Day Class. There is the smell of fire and burning flesh, and sections of the school grounds have been painted red in the blood of the dead and dying. Something heavy hits him in the back, knocking him forward. A Day Class girl has stumbled into him, her throat has been torn out, and the blood from her wound has spilled all down the front of her uniform, and now paints the back of Kaien's jacket. She falls to the ground, dead before her still warm body hits the ground. _

_Swallowing his shock, he gets to his feet, and begins to walk around the grounds. It might not be the most helpful of ideas, but it is the only thing he can think to do. Turning his back on the dead body of one of the many students he does not know, he begins to explore the bloody nightmare of his academy. Amidst the screams, and the calamity it is hard to think, hard to concentrate. Hells angels beat their wings, and sing a demented chorus form atop the Moon Dorm. On the front steps, succubae snag any unwary male victim running by. Wraiths emerge from the ground, entrapping unwary, and panicked students, enveloping them in an embrace colder than Death's Kiss. Gritting his teeth, he enters the school building. He is no sooner in the building, when the door shuts behind him. Deep down, he is not surprised. Not at all. _

_He can hear a whispering, many voices, joining together to form one. There is more blood on the walls, and the hallways are littered with dead bodies. His feet seem to forget that, and he trips over one of the carelessly discarded corpses. When he turns to see who it is he has nearly fallen over, his heart stops for a few precious moments._

_Kaname Kuran, president of the Moon Dorm, and pureblood vampire lies in a pool of his own blood. His throat and eyes have been ripped out. There is a long incision running from the base of his collar bone to his navel. For a moment, he believes his eyes are deceiving him, but on closer inspection, he realizes he is right: The incision is _moving_. An ocean of black pours from the wound, tiny legs jittering on the wood, playing a chorus only the damned can comprehend. Thousand of little spiders crawl over the remains of the vampire, eating whatever they can find. In the far back of his mind, Kaien wonders why the body has not turned to dust, or any of the other Night Class bodies for that matter, but that thought is irrelevant. The sounds of millions of fangs clicking together as tender flesh is devoured is almost too much for him to bear. Gathering his stomach, that is slowly collecting in his throat, Kaien Cross turns, and flees, leaving the spiders to continue their feeding. As he flees down the corridor of death, he hears other sounds: Somewhere in a nearby classroom, a girl is being raped and eaten by an incubus, a young boy is being torn apart by sepulchers, and that whisper has grown to a loud humming chant. _

_His lungs are beginning to burn, and he knows he must find somewhere safe to rest. But where? The auditorium. It's a big enough room, surely he can find a safe place to hide, rest, and think of what to do next. Cold wind blasts through the hallway, he whirls around. Coming down the corridor, not really stepping over the bodies, but hovering over them is a red cloaked figure. He does not have time to run, so Kaien lays himself flat on the floor, and pulls a nearby dead body over top of him. It is impossible not to gag on the stench of death, but it is all he can do for the moment, besides pray that this demon god will pass him by. As the apparition passes each of the closed doors, one by one, the rooms on the other side become silent. He can now hear the chant that has reverberated through the walls;_

"_He comes, he comes, the new Thirteenth Lord comes!"_

_The new Thirteenth Lord? What the hell does that mean? He, Yagari, and the late Master Yuskai prevented the Lords from being reborn on this plane. But, if that were really true, would that explain anything happening now? _

'_Of course not.'_

_He thinks_

'_Because I am in a dream, albeit a strange one, but a dream nonetheless. But…'_

_He does not finish the thought. The figure is right above him. Its aura slams down on him like a ton of hot bricks. He is suffocating on the presence of taint. Underneath that is a commanding presence, and absolutely EVIL presence, assuring him that the one who floats above him can be no other. A clawed hand extends down, and touches the body of the dead student lying atop him. Terror, cold, black iron terror squeezes his heart and lungs so tight, death nearly envelops him right then. To his relief, the hand is withdrawn. Satisfied that everyone in the corridor is dead, the Thirteenth Lord continues on his way. _

_He lies there for a few more minutes, until he is sure that it is safe to come back out again. Heaving the body off of him, he takes a moment to say a quick prayer for the departed that lay before him, sending a special prayer for Kaname, then follows the Thirteenth Lord. The path leads him to the auditorium. There his eyes behold everything in his nightmares. Orgies of flesh and blood are spread throughout the room. Those who have been found, or graciously left alive are being offered up as sacrifices, mainly young human women. Faceless, nameless, lesser demons leer from corners, and the shadows, and wait their turn to take the scraps from the grand feast. Both succubae, and incubi paint themselves in the blood of their victims, making swirling patterns of red, flanked by spots of the darker, richer heart's blood. The chant is now a yell, it swells to fill the entire room, and nearly shatters his eardrums. _

"_He is here! He is coming! The Thirteenth Lord! Ruler of Evil! God of the unhallowed! Master of Darkness! Praise him! Honor him! He is here! He has come! HE HAS COME!"_

_The last three words are screamed in such a manner, that Kaien fancies his ears are bleeding. Up ahead, on the stage, the Thirteenth Lord is standing. The room has fallen silent, those who had been basking in the climax of the orgy are put on hold for the time being. The Thirteenth Lord raises his hand, and Kaien is shocked to see it looks like a normal human hand. It is not half-rotten, nor is it a thousand times its own size. The only abnormal thing are the two extra fingers, and the long claws. The hood stays perfectly positioned, not even the eyes show. Then, the demon begins to speak._

"_My sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, children of darkness, the time has come! The doors have once more been opened, and this time we will not fail! It was eighteen years ago that our great coming, our dominion over the races of the living was ripped from us!"_

_Howls of despair fill the room. Kaien is not stupid, they know to what, and to whom the demon is referring to._

"_But rejoice my family! The old king was weak, and he could not stand against those who stood to smite him! I am powerful! I will be the voice that guides you, I will be the one that leads you on! Together my sisters, brothers, children, daughters, and sons, together we will put out the white light of purity, and engulf the word in the black flame of our evil!"_

"_NO!"_

_Eyes of every shade imaginable, red, violet, gold, and the like lock on him. Kaien is shaking, but it is more with anger and revulsion than with fear. Clenching his hands into fists, and grinding his teeth, he speaks._

"_You are _wrong _demon! Eighteen years ago we stopped you, and now eighteen years later we will do it again! The light of Purity can never be extinguished! It is _you _who will fail! _You _who will grovel at our feet, begging for mercy! It is _us! _The living races that shall hold dominion! We will triumph over you as we have done for eons! You will not stand! I swear on the names of all my fathers, _YOU WILL NOT STAND!"

_Silence, then laughter. It is laughter he remembers all too well. Eighteen years ago, another Demon Lord laughed like this, and it nearly drove him to insanity. The Demon Lord claps as he laughs. After a while, silence reigns again._

"_Touching, Knight, touching."_

_The Thirteenth Lord waves his hand._

"_Kill him."_

_He cannot run, he cannot scream, he cannot even react. The only thing he can do is remain there, while he is thrown about the room, and torn apart, bit by bloody bit. The only thought going through his mind is 'So this is death…'_

_Then, the cold, black, suffocating waters of unconsciousness close over his head, engulfing him, never to return…_

* * * * *

His eyes flew open, and he came straight up out of bed. Panting, he looked around the room. Same old, same old, but…

"My God, that wasn't a dream…it was…"

A vision. Why else would he dream of so many things at once? After collecting his composure, Cross glances over at the clock. The blinking red numbers announce that is 3:00 a.m.

'The hour of demons.' He thinks to himself. 'I'm not surprised.' Still, the feelings that stay with him, even in the waking hours tell him that the vision was much more that demon induced. A warning then?

Carefully, he got up out of bed, and crept over to his closet. Amidst the odder varieties of clothing that neither child under his roof could fathom the reason he owned was a shelf, high above the hangers. Atop the shelf sat a large wooden box. Reaching up, he wrapped his fingers around the edges and pulled it down. Kneeling on the floor, he laid the box before him, and removed the lid.

Inside the box, was a white velvet lining. On the velvet sat s gleaming white sword. It was a European style blade, with edges plated in silver. Silver. The scourge to every unhallowed thing that dared to walk the earth. The hilt was silver plated as well. On the flat of the blade, engraved into the metal was a medium sized silver cross, that had a full, blooming red rose entwined around it. This was the symbol of the White Knights. The White Knights were a secret organization inside the Hunter's Council. Instead of vampires, they hunted what some deemed to be monsters. They were peace keepers, guardians, and silent warriors. In the organization were twelve specially selected vampire hunters, that were trained vigorously, and then initiated in the form of an entrance ceremony. The twelve knight were ruled by a woman clad in white robes referred to as 'Mother Superior'. The weapons of the Knights were of course, white, and bore their symbol. In the case of Yagari's gun, the bullets were silver. No one else except for the Knights themselves knew of the organization's existence, ad the Mother Superior was bound by a strict oath of secrecy. A White Knight. Both he and Yagari had been one, until the incident of eighteen years ago.

Cross smiled sadly as he remembered that night. Their master had died a painful death, but damn it all, he had been smiling, and congratulating them. It was after that tragic winter night, that he and Yagari left the organization, never to return. Yagari went back to being a vampire hunter, as did Cross, and a few years later, he put a stop to vampire hunting as well. Now, he had nothing to hunt, nothing to kill, nothing to eradicate, and that was fine. But the dream, no the _vision. _Everything in the last part had seemed so real. What did it mean? Then it came to him. Kneeling in the dark, Kaien instinctively reached for his sword. He pulled it out, and watched as the moonlight reflected of the blade.

"The Locked Boxes. Dear God, help us."

* * *

**Phew! Oh my days, that took forever! How was it? If you have any suggestions, or comments, (hopefully good) click the square button labeled 'Review'. Hope to hear from ya!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again, and welcome to Paladin, chapter two! I have a small note to put here: If anyone of you readers reads Stephen King's The Dark Tower series, you will recognize the 'for your father's sake' and 'I swear on the names of all my fathers.' I thought it would be cool to put that in, along with a few other ways of speaking from Roland of Gilead's world. ^_^ (Copyright of any line taken from the Dark Tower goes entirely to King, so please, no flames.) I do not own anything of VK either.**

* * *

Gold ribbons of sunlight floated gently onto the floor of the kitchen through the window, announcing a bright, optimistic looking morning. Yuuki sat at the kitchen table, with a cup of hot tea in front of her, contemplating about how she was going to study for a few upcoming exams, when the Chairman came down into the kitchen. She smiled at him, her brown eyes sparking.

"Good morning Chairman."

"Good morning Yuuki-chan."

Yuuki started a little. It wasn't like the Chairman not to flip out, and tell her to call him Daddy. While he had his back turned, she cocked her head to the side, and looked at him more thoroughly. Although he did not appear sleep deprived, something in his eyes was different. Distant, as if he wasn't really there, as if he was seeing someplace far away, farther that she could think to ever reach. What was he seeing? What was he thinking? Normally, the Chairman had eyes as clear as a mountain stream. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

"Huh? Chairman? Where are you going?"

He was pulling on his old black coat, and gloves, his hair was down, and as he turned to his adopted daughter, she noticed his glasses had been removed. Sometimes it stunned her how he moved so fast. He often did that when he was excited, or worried.

"I'm going out. I'll be back in the afternoon. That is if I finish what I'm going to do early. If not, I'll be back in the evening."

"Wait, what about breakfast? I'm sure Zero-kun can cook something! Chair-"

She was cut off by the finalizing sound of a slamming door. Just what was going on that had the Chairman so frazzled?

* * * * *

As he walked, two things were certain: 1, None of it had been a dream. 2: The third had been a warning. And it all had to do with the Locked Boxes. When he had first awoken in the darkness, the impulse to check to see of the boxes were still secure had been so strong that he had almost run into town right then. Master Yuskai's death. His father's death. The vision. What did it all mean?

The council building loomed before him. Ominous, and foreboding. Its windows, dark, and empty like the eyes of a cadaver. He stood in its icy shadow, gripped by the long reaching darkness it cast. Fingering the necklace he wore, the full red rose entwined around the silver cross, he stepped inside. Sights, sounds, and scents of long forgotten familiarity washed over him like a current of warm water. Twenty-four years ago, he'd made his first kill as a hunter. Two years after that as a Knight. Old friends, and partners that had been killed…or worse. Their ghosts appeared in his mind, behind his eyes as he walked down the long hallway that had been burned into the memories of his feet. He could walk it with his eyes closed. Doors on his left and right were closed, but he knew what was going on behind them: A new assignment being offered, reported, just the average life of a vampire hunter. But he wasn't here on vampire business.

A young man passed by him, long blond hair tied back into a small braid. His green eyes shone with a deadly knowledge. Tattooed on his neck was the same symbol on Cross's necklace. Cross stopped him.

"Konna. Do you have a minute? I need to see Mother Superior."

Konna stopped, and looked him up and down, as if he was trying to remember who he was. Apparently he didn't. Cross didn't blame him. Konna was twenty-nine, that made him only thirteen when Cross and Yagari left the White Knights, and he had never seen much of either two any way. He'd only heard stories.

"Um…I don't think-"

Cross flashed his necklace.

"Kaien Cross. I believe you've heard the name."

Konna's eyes widened, then he smiled, and placed one hand behind his head.

"Cross? Of course I've heard of you. Sorry I didn't recognize you sooner. I was young at the time…but yeah. I'll get her. Follow me."

Konna led him down the long hallway. It tapered off into three others, two led to walls, where on each side of the tan carpet more closed doors, each hiding their own secret begged to be opened. The third was smaller, and dimly lit. There were no doors flanking the carpeting, At the end of the hallway was a large door. For the untrained, uninvolved eye, it looked just like a section of wall. But for one who knew what to look for, it was easy to find. From their distance, both men could see the symbol carved into the 'wall' on the center, and the slim black line running in between the door, and the right side of the hallway.

At the false wall, Konna stopped.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but after such a long absence, from both the Council, and the Knights, why have you returned? And why too see Mother Superior of all things?"

"Something a bit personal."

Konna knew better than to pry. He simply nodded, and gently pushed on the symbol of the rose entwined around the cross. There was a barely above audible click as a switch was pressed, and the door quickly swung back into the wall. On the other side was a tunnel, hewn from stone. Lamps were affixed to the walls, and even after centuries of treading feet, the steps still had not been worn down. Both men stepped through to the other side of the threshold, and the door quickly swung shut behind them.

The tunnel led down far beneath the city. Further down, the single tunnel split off into a network of subterranean walkways. And from there, it was impossible to count the pathways that split off from there. It was the main one both men took to walking. All around them was the eerie orange, yellow glow of the torches. These were not ordinary flame. A long time ago, longer than any vampire's memory served that is, a few members of the organization had dabbled a bit into the arts of magic. The wood was hawthorn, in the ancient days it was the only type of wood, that once sharpened wood pierce a vampire's flesh, right to the heart. (And in this case, it was believed to have some sort of properties.) It was enchanted with some sort of spell, lighted, then woven over with some enchantment to ensure they burned for eternity. Or however long the Knights lasted. Assuming that Darkness was at least somewhat banished.

Both of them walked in silence, Cross striding abreast the young man, left hand sometimes straying to a blade he no longer carried, right hand periodically clasping the necklace he wore around his neck. Mother Superior. He remembered the woman clearly. Elderly back then, somewhere in her seventies, in her eighties now, maybe somewhere in the early nineties even, she radiated with power. She was not the leader, the Superior, regardless of gender did not fight. They were like soothsayers. Dressed in white hooded robes that covered the eyes, the Superior was the High Lord or Lady of the Knights. They were the ones who gave the initiation rights to newcomers. They were consulted in times of spiritual crisis, in all, they were revered as the highest authority.

The main pathway led up, sloping ever so gradually. Silence enveloped the pair like a thick shroud. Soon they found themselves facing yet another door. This one stood, ancient and powerful, the wood chipping here and there, the old metal ring serving as the handle starting to well rust over. Konna looked at Cross somewhat apologetically.

"We've been trying to get someone down here to repair it. No one's volunteered. It's been years since that door's seen a nice repair."

Cross nodded, distracted. He had little to do right now with the repairing of a door. But Konna was right. If the door was not repaired, in the next ten years it would fall apart. It seemed a long time right there, but time was as fast as it was eternal.

"Open it Konna. If you would."

Konna nodded, and gripped the iron ring. The hinges groaned, and the wood shifted and creaked. The ring threatened to come clean off. No doubt about it. Konna was right. They needed a new door. Pure, bright, white light flooded the tunnel. Cross brought his hand up to shield his eyes, and Konna ducked behind the door. When their eyes had finally adjusted to the sudden influx of light, they stepped out of the tunnel.

The main pathway led to a large church-like building. Cross turned as Konna began to shut the door, a much quieter operation than opening it had been. They had exited through another section of false wall. The ceiling arched up to form a dome like structure, the whole building was made of stone. Through the large windows that adorned the ceiling, he could see the flared wings of the bow and arrow baring angel sitting atop the roof, arrow aimed at some unforeseen foe coming from the west. The early afternoon sun cast a golden sheen through the windows, giving the place a feeling of sanctuary. Of course it had always been that. A sanctuary for wounded Knights, Knights seeking spiritual guidance, and those young, and still in training.

Cross stepped out into the large, round room. It was like walking straight into a memory. Nothing had changed. Tapestries adorned the walls, depicting great battles, and victories. A great balcony circled the second story, its railing seeming to peer out at any who happened to stand below. At the front of the large room was a mural of Marten von Nacht, founder of the White Knights. Known by those in the organization as "Father". The picture depicted the man, sitting atop his famed white stallion, swinging his silver edged battle axe, cleaving the skull of a ghoul in two. His necklace, later to become the symbol for the organization he created, handed down through his family, shone brilliantly in the fire of battle, silver gleaming proudly. Flanking the picture on either side was a large white banner bearing the symbol upon the von Nacht's neck. Half impulse, half habit, Cross clutched his own necklace, and stared into the painted eyes of the centuries dead man.

"Erm…Cross?"

Cross turned around, Konna was standing behind him, waiting nervously.

"Yes Konna?"

The young man looked off to his left. All around, various archways led off to separate parts of the large structure. With the sunlight shining down through the windows, one could easily see into the archways and down the corridors they led to. A few of them led to a practice room where apprentices like he had been once, trained. Honing their skills, and improving in hopes that one day they would become a Knight. Two of the archways were bigger than most, on either side of one was the reoccurring symbol of the Knights, the other was flanked by banners of deep red. The color of honor, and valor. It was to the first one that Konna was glancing at.

"I have to notify the Mother Superior that you've come. Because…aw hell, you know the drill right?"

Cross smiled. Konna was a kind lad. When he was younger he had always tried hard to be serious. In a way, he had wanted to be his mentor's double. Which was a bit hard considering his teacher had been a woman. Everyday he had trained vigorously, to the point that the blisters on his fingers had blisters from gripping the handle on his war hammer so hard and so often. Now before him stood a dutiful young man, someone who a mother would be proud to call her son. That is if she knew what he was doing.

"Yes Konna. I understand. Go tell her I need to see her. I need to take care of something first."

Konna nodded, and headed off down the hallway flanked by the symbol. Opposite that door was the one flanked by the red banners. This one led down to an altar dedicated to von Nacht after his tragic death. It was down this passage that Cross strode. Light filtered through, and struck the stone turning it a gleaming, blazing white that was hard to look at.

At the end of the corridor was a room about the size of an average bedroom. A window on the left wall let in more light, and showed a scene of the beautiful green hill dotted country. If one exited the building, and entered the thick forest up the rarely traveled road, they would come across an outside training ground. Sometimes it was used by the Superior, or an elder Knight as a place of spiritual connection. It was also within the clearing, the clearing blazing with emerald light in the haze of green and gold, where Master Yuskai had been given an honorable burial.

The room was paneled with a chestnut colored wood, the carpet was again the same dark, rich red as the banners, as were the curtains on either side of the large window. At the back of the room was a hip high oaken table. The table was covered with a long piece of red velvet. Sitting atop the velvet was an ancient, dusty, thick tome. The pages were yellowed around the edges, and the leather binding was cracked, and peeling. It was open to the center, and a thin white ribbon ran down where the right edge of each page met the binding, acting as a place marker.

On either side of the book were six candles, that would be lit as the evening shadows drew long. Above the altar was another painting of von Nacht. He was kneeling on the ground with the tip of his sword planted in the ground, his hands curled around the hilt. In front of him, a single wild red rose was blooming. In the background the sun was rising, basking Knight, sword, and rose in the golden glow.

Cross walked across the room and knelt in front of the table and closed his eyes. He slipped his necklace off, and kissed it.

"Father."

He said aloud to the empty room.

"May your rest in the afterlife be peaceful, and may you be reunited with those that loved you. Also may you know, that I Kaien Cross, although no longer in your service Father, come here, seeking aid and succor. I know not if it was you, or some other dearly departed soul that hath sent me the terrible vision that I received last night, but I do know this: If the lives of the innocent come under threat, I will not hesitate to draw forth my sword, and smite those of taint once more. Please watch over those who still perform to your duty dear Father."

Cross stood up, and opened his eyes to face the kneeling man depicted in the painting.

"May thy soul of the divine find peace in the eternal rest within that distant heaven. May the soul within my body continue to follow the white light of purity, and may your still heart not be worried by the troubles of today's times. Your rest is eternal, your orders are absolute. Amen."

He felt a small weight slip from his shoulders. Ever since he left he had always felt a bit guilty about not returning to this room. Well, now the deed was done, and a small part of him could rest somewhat easy. He continued to look, enraptured by the painting in front of him. How long ago had that been done? Who, really, was the man pictured before him? The book on the table lay open to the middle. Written on its centuries old pages, in the spider scrawl of the sixteenth century, were ancient oaths, written by a man in the early seventeen hundreds, although the name had slipped from history. In the back of the old tome was the vow of silence that every Knight, upon initiation took. Standing there, clasping the necklace that represented so much, he recalled the former days of his youth.

_He is kneeling down, with his head bowed, on the other side of him, Yagari is doing the same. It is hard to tell because his hair is hanging in his face. A ghost of a smile hovers on his face for a moment as he remembers Yagari making jokes, and tugging it. The room they are in reminds him of the throne rooms of great kings and queen he has seen in history books. Except this is no court, and they are no jesters. Before them are great stone steps, at the top stands an elderly woman, clad in white robes, with the hood pulled down to cover her eyes. Her ivory hair is swept back into a bun, her lips, contrary to her age are still full and red. On either side of her stand two completely robed officials. In their hands, each holds a wooden box. All around in the room are paintings and banners, serving as a timeline, offering a glimpse into the successions in years long gone. _

_His hands are clasped in his lap, beside him, Yagari is doing the same thing, only his eyes are closed. Thinking quickly, and not wanting the Mother Superior to disapprove of him, he closes his eyes too. Both of them are clad in sacred garments; white robes embroidered with red. An age of silence passes inside the room. Finally, the Mother Superior speaks._

"_Kaien Cross."_

_He lifts his head, and looks levelly at the figure of authority standing before him. Although the hood covers her eyes, he knows she is looking directly at him, maybe even through him. He gathers his voice, which has been lying in wait, and gathers his courage which has dreamed of this day, and replies;_

"_Yes Mother?"_

"_Recite the Oath of the Initiate."_

_Cross inhaled deeply. Here it was, the moment he had been waiting for, the day he'd been eagerly anticipating. As he stood there, he found himself wishing that time would rewind, that he could relive yesterday. His last day as an apprentice had seemed somehow sweet, and…alright. As he and Yagari had sat on the roof of his house, watching the sunset everything had occurred to him. Those were his last moments of apprenticeship. The next day he would be inducted into the ceremony, and initiated . Both he and Yagari would receive their weapons, and turn their back on their pasts to face a clean slate ahead. _

_He stood there, in front of the Mother Superior, wishing those moments could materialize, become real things, so he could hold them, and marvel at their beauty. Polish, and put them somewhere important, instead of filing them away in a dusty mental file cabinet where the would grow gray, and fade with the passage of time. _

_A sudden swarm of yellow danced across his vision, and he realized he'd been holding his breath. He glanced down, and saw Yagari who was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, he exhaled, and began the speech which his very reputation would be riding on._

"_I Kaien Cross, from this day forth, The White, and Great Father Marten von Nacht willing, will no longer be an apprentice, but a Knight, solely striving the protect the just, and the innocent from the monstrosities that bear evil taint. I will wield my sword for the White Light of Purity, for the continuation of peace, and prosperity. My sword will be guided by my hand, which will be guided by my heart, which in turn will be guided by the White."_

_He took a breath and continued._

"_I do not aim with my hand, he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye. I do not smite with my sword, he who smites with his sword has forgotten the face of his father. I smite with my mind. I do not kill with my sword, he who kills with his sword has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart."_

_He stopped for a small moment to prepare himself. Here was the last part of the oath. He had worked almost the entire night on this, saying it over and over again, till it was perfect. Cross stood up taller, and faced the woman before him head on. His eyes gleamed with determination to prove himself, with a drive to succeed. He would not be turned away in shame, no not he, not here._

"_And if it comes to pass, Great Father forbidding, that my soul shall come under the black influence of Taint, that I shall be struck down , transfixed with hawthorn, beheaded with silver, burned in holy flame, and have my ashes scattered in the crossroads in direct sunlight. The White Light of Purity commands this, The White Knights command this, the Great Father Marten von Nacht commands this, and lastly, I Kaien Cross command this. Let my quest not be in vain, may those who can hope will always hope, may light always break through the darkness."_

_He bowed his head, and let the final line flow from his lips into the still air around him._

"_By the Book of the Oaths, by the symbol of the Knights…and by the power of the great axe, Sanctus, carried by Marten von Nacht, I come before you, with everything laid bare, and await your judgment."_

_He stood there, feeling Mother Superior's eyes weigh on him. He could feel her searching him, searching for a sign of false meaning, for a hint or a flicker of the shadow of a traitor to pass through his aura. He hoped she wouldn't see one. He didn't consider himself a thief, or a liar, but he also knew that the Mother Superior could see things in a person's heart they didn't know were there._

_Finally, he felt he gaze shift. It was like feeling restraints slip off your body after a long period of being trapped in them. The relief was both welcome and frightening. Her voice, commanding, and calming at the same time filled the room once more._

"_Touga Yagari."_

_Yagari looked up at the Mother Superior._

"_Yes Mother?"_

_Yagari would have it easy. All he would have to do was repeat everything word for word, that Kaien had said. If he had been paying attention, which Cross was sure of, it would be like walking across a country lane. Mentally Cross kicked himself. This was his friend. What was he thinking? Yagari would never rely on Kaien to get him through anything. _

"_Recite the Oath of the Initiate. And when you do, your voice shall be true. A Knight does not take his first step of the lifelong journey be relying on others, but rather by his own measures."_

_Yagari nodded, and began to recite the ancient oath. He did it with accuracy and precision, looking the Mother Superior straight in the eye as he did so. When he was finished, he bowed his head as Cross had done. _

_For a long time the Mother was silent. Cross's heart was hammering in his chest, he was shocked no one else could hear it. The steady thrumming ran in his ears, until it was all he could hear. He was sure any moment it would burst, and then he would die, never knowing if indeed he was going to be knighted. _

_Then, she began to speak._

"_Touga Yagari. Kaien Cross. Throughout your training, and missions with your mentor you have shown a never wavering courage, a constant pledge to the power of the Light of Purity. You have faced evils that those who sleep in the unknowing world cannot even dream of, and each time you have stood true. The Great Father smiles down upon you both."_

_She swept her hand out to the room until they were at opposite ends from the other. _

"_These weapons will be given unto you, and will stay with you until you draw your last breath. For your part in our never ending quest does not end until you lay in the earth from whence you came."_

_The robed figures stepped down from their place beside the Mother, and strode down until they were in front of both young Knights. Although the both of them were only sixteen, their eyes told of how they had been matured at a very young age. The figures knelt in front of them, lifted the lids from the boxes they held in their hands. The figure in front of Yagari held a case containing a white rifle. Its barrel gleamed liquid white fire. The symbol on the barrel sat engraved upon the metal, a testament to the times gone by. _

_In Cross's box was a two handed sword. The flat of the blade seemed to shine with the symbol of the Knights. The silver on the edge seemed to peer at him from the side of the blade. Reaching out, he gently caressed the blade he would carry with him, and take to his grave. The Mother's voice rang out once more._

"_Young Knights, I welcome thee. May the White Light shine down on both of you."_

_Cross felt like flying. Finally! He felt almost as if-_

"Cross?"

Cross started a little bit. He turned, and behind him stood Konna, hand resting on the door frame. He was looking at the painting of the man whose memory still possessed a commanding presence.

"Konna."

Konna turned his eyes from the painting, and looked levelly at Cross.

"The Mother Superior will see you now. In fact, she's kind of eager to do so. I wonder why."

Cross smiled, and passed Konna as he stepped back into the corridor.

"Perhaps she already knows."

* * * * *

Bang!

The Level E didn't even scream. It fell silently, turning to dust before it's disintegrating body hit the ground. Yagari sighed. Another job done, another assignment completed. Today it seemed like a drop in the ocean compared to the millions that would always be awaiting the eager hunter. The problem today however, was that Touga Yagari was far from eager. In fact, he was tired. Strange dreams had kept him up from a about three a.m. He would have to head over to Cross Academy later and talk things over with Kaien. Surely he would have something to say about this. Hell maybe he had had the same dream. It could be connected to something. Yagari smirked.

"Yeah, some government conspiracy: Let's rob the honest, hard working vampire hunter of sleep, and see how long it takes him to catch on to what's _really _happening."

He said aloud to himself. But still, the feeling persisted. He would have to make a side trip once he was done reporting the completed assignment.

The late afternoon sun cast lazy shadows in the alleyways between the shops and apartments. He was passing underneath the awning of an antique shop when his sixth sense got a jolt.

He was being watched by something. Something that attacked at night. Something tainted. Quickly, he scanned the area. One o' clock, the plazas were still full of people. If whatever it was decided to show itself, it would be one hell of a show, and unforgettable. Which would be a major problem. Moving like he had been lit, Yagari zipped down an alley to his right. He could feel the aura of the thing following him. If his memory was right, this was a fairly long alleyway, and led clear to the other side of town. If he slowed his pace a little, the thing would catch up with him and he would be able to properly deal with it.

As he ran, he took many turns, often doubling back on his trail. As he expected, his instincts turned out to be right, and before too long, the creature playing the macabre game of chase finally showed itself. Yagari stood in the middle of a sloping alley, hand already on the butt of the gun that had been given to him twenty-one years ago. He'd had both eyes back then, but he was used to going with only one eye now. He scanned the area around him furtively.

"You can come out now. I'm all alone. Won't that make you little job easier?"

Silence. Then a shriek straight from the grave. It descended upon him. A bony, cold hand tipped with razor sharp talons, and breath that stank of rotten flesh told him that his attacker was a sepulcher. Yagari brought the barrel of his gun up, and cracked the demon sharply on the skull. It made a sick mewling noise, and flew back a few feet, where it stopped, shaking its head. Yagari grinned, fighting Level Es, that became monotonous after a while, shoot them in the heart the head, bam they'll go down. With sepulchers, wraiths, etc, it was always something new. Never a hand in the same pot twice. As the sepulcher worked on clearing its head, the barrel of Yagari's vampire hunting gun was a combination of silver and steel, so the headache would bite deep. Smiling with predatory glee, he quickly re-holstered his gun, and reached for the rifle he carried on him for times like this.

The cold touch of the metal on the tips of his fingers, the sure, sturdy weight of the gun in his hands, and the gleam of the small slant of sunlight on the white metal brought everything rushing back to him. The long hard nights, the high risk, high return battles. Hunting, and fighting vampires never brought such an adrenaline rush.

Meanwhile, the sepulcher had corrected itself, and was preparing an assault on his throat. As he stood facing it, he noticed something odd: It had only one hand, its left hand to be precise. Left handed sepulcher, something smelled strange. It flew at him, outstretched claws groping for the tender flesh just below his chin.

"C'mon, kiddo."

He whispered, and cocked the gun.

"Meet your maker."

Bang! A burst of white light as the silver bullet came into contact with unhallowed flesh. Shrieks resounded inside his skull. Then, this;

"_Glinka, last of The Unhallowed Sons is dead! Killed by a Holy Knight! Oh Discordia! Praise the Thirteenth Lord! May his eternal name live on in the shadows!"_

The hell? Yagari quirked an eyebrow at the creature convulsing on the ground with the bullet hole in its head. Black, foul smelling liquid was leaking onto the concrete, oozing its way into the ground, and probably into the sewers.

"What in hell are you talking about, unearthly scum?"

"_Hah! Hell is right, arrogant paladin! You have just killed one of the Thirteenth Lord's right hand men. You will pay dearly! Soon all of this world will be engulfed in the black fires of his rage, and hell will seem like heaven in comparison!"_

Ugly, laughter bubbledup from within the deep recesses of his mind, filling it to the brim with a horrendous sound that reminded him of a dead body slapping around in thick, briny waters. It went on and on, even after the sepulcher had faded to nothing more than a black smear on the ground. He thought he would go mad if he listened to it long enough in the dark alley.

"Shut up."

He didn't say it with much force, but it was enough. The laughter stopped. Yagari sighed, and stowed his gun. As he exited the alley, he turned his face to meet the warm kiss of the sun, and savored it on his skin. He sighed, rolled his shoulders a little, then continued on, a knot of fear beginning to wind itself tight in his stomach.

* * * * *

Cross traced the words written upon the ghost wood door. 'Divinus Mutter.' They read. He could feel ghostly hands from the past laying upon his shoulders, tugging him back to years gone by. Only a little light made it way this far back into Headquarters, so it gave the area a mysterious quality. The air seemed charged with an electric current, every sip sent a small tremor through him. Slowly, carefully, he grabbed hold of the gold knob, and turned it gently, listening to the bolts shift inside.

The door opened on a large carpeted room. He suppressed a chill as he noticed its color: deep emerald green, the same color as that in his father's office. Book cases lined three walls, filled with volumes, both Old, and New World. Their text was written in an ancient text called Gaelic The room smelled faintly of rose petals. A window sat on the back wall of the room, and framed in the light cascading through the glass was an elderly woman seated at a small table. On the table sat a bowl of water, in the water, rose petals floated. The woman had her right hand splayed over the bowl. She didn't even look up upon the sound of his entrance. Cross shut the door behind him, and tapped his throat three times.

"Long days, and pleasant nights, Mother Superior."

She didn't turn to face him, but he detected the hint of a smile in her voice.

"And may you have twice the number, Kaien Cross."

He sighed inwardly, and once more turned his gaze to the room he was in. However, he couldn't keep his eyes from straying down to the deep green carpet, and curtains. Memories of that night in his father's office gripped him with such sharp claws, that he couldn't help it; He openly shivered. He heard a small chuckle from the other side of the room.

"I see you disapprove of my décor color. Does it bring bad memories?"

Stupid, idiot! He should've remembered the psychic powers if the Superiors. He kicked himself mentally, and made a note to keep his thoughts closely guarded.

"No Mother. Just a little cold is all."

A snort of disbelief.

"Bah. You know very well that you can't get away with lying to the Superior. But your integrity is true. Come. I want you to see something."

He did as he was bade, his eyes riveted on the figure before him. Only once did his gaze ever slip. A bird flew quickly across the wide expanse of sky, jet black against a pale blue. In a single instant, he caught the sight of its wings spread wide, glimmers of sunlight reflected off against the bird's outline, adding pink and gold crystals to its feathers. Such beauty was breath taking.

However, once he was behind the Mother Superior, all thoughts of beauty, birds, and the like came to a complete halt, crashed and burned. The water in the bowl was red. Red, just like blood.

Shuddering violently, Cross backed up a step and shook his head, as if what was in front of him wasn't real. When he dared to look again, his worst suspicions were confirmed. The water in the bowl glared an angry red up at him. The rose petals that floated in the surface seemed to stare like accusatory eyes, looking for something, or someone to blame.

"You seem troubled."

An understatement in the very least.

"I think a goose just walked over my grave."

"With what you do, there will be a number of things stepping on your grave."

He swallowed a smart comment that had been stuck on his tongue. He had been around Yagari too much. Without even the knowledge of what he was doing, he reached out, and was about to have his finger make contact with the crimson waters, when his wrist was grabbed sharply.

"Honestly, boy? Do you have any sense in your head? Take a closer look! There! Do you see what lurks beneath the surface?"

He did. In the center, not quite below the surface, but not deep enough to where it touched the bowl's bottom, was an amorphous blob, in the shape of a closed eye. In his head, he heard a faint humming sound, it sounded like a hive of insane, drunken bees. If he listened to it for too long, he would become mad.

"As long as the eye remains underneath the water, and closed, I do not think it will be a problem. The sound it calm as long as his eye sleeps. When it is open however…"

Cross wasn't sue what to think. They eye had been there for a while?! It would/had open/opened?! No one was informed?! And whose eye was it for that matter?!

"Kaien, my dear boy, you came here wanting to know about dreams. Dreams of murder, dreams of the dark, bloody labyrinth you once walked down time and time again. I believe that below the seemingly calm, and unbroken surface of this water, you will find you answers."

Tentatively, he reached out, and tapped his index finger on the crimson pool. There was a twitch beneath the water, then an electric current latched onto his body. His teeth clenched together, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight. His hand was sucked deeper into the water. No, this was not water, it was _blood. _Sticky, wet warmth clung to his skin. Searing, white hot pain ripped through the flesh on his hand as thin tendrils burrowed themselves into his flesh. His face contorted with a grimace of pain, and an agonized grunt escaped his lips.

After a short while, the pain ebbed away, and the darkness behind his eyes brightened. He would never be able to forget what he saw.

**Sorry about the cliffy. One thing that I have noticed, at least for me that is, is that strawberry pop helps me to write better. Reviews are welcome. Oh, and as for the "I do not kill with my sword" speech, that also comes from the Dark Tower series. I just put my on little spin on it seeing as how Roland's ka-tet wields guns, and Cross wields a sword. Please, as I said earlier no flames, all copyright of Datk Tower lines go to King. Now, I would like a review, may it do ya fine.**


End file.
